


Gut Feeling

by actualcheetah



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuban Lance (Voltron), Homesick Lance (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I promise, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, Lance (Voltron) Swears a Lot, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron) is a Twin, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Lance also isn't liked by the other prisoners, Lance is fighting in the gladiator pits, Lance just, Like, No Beta, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, We Die Like Men, at least one a chapter, briefly, disappears while on a mission, if not more, lots of transmissions between haggar and the castle in later chapters, surprise, thats a lot of tags for only two chapters, there will be more
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-11 23:29:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19936309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualcheetah/pseuds/actualcheetah
Summary: A distress signal from a quadrant of space that's mostly empty aside from a single Blade of Marmora base makes it's way to the Castle of Liond so Voltron travels to assist them. None knew how that day would turn out but they never expected it to end up like this...





	1. Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!  
> This is my first fanfic ever so please, be gentle with me if you leave a review
> 
> If you have a suggestion for this fic, please let me know! I'm open to any and all critiques that could help me improve!  
> Also, please excuse any typos or slight inaccuracies! This story is unbetaed
> 
> _____
> 
> I do not own Voltron: Legendary Defender, or any of the characters in the show, and I'm not making a profit from this story.  
> The only ones I have claim to are the OC's I make up as I write, but you're free to use them in your own stories!

Lance's day was going awful so far.

His alarm didn't end up going off, so he woke up a varga and a half late which meant he had to skip his daily skin-care routine in favor of hastily getting dressed for early morning training they did every other day. Once he got to the training hall, he knew he was still going to be a good twenty-five minutes late despite sprinting through the castle while getting dressed and that was confirmed with Allura's sharp glare and loud confirmation that they could finally begin training now that everyone was gathered.

Lance felt his ears burn lightly with embarrassment at everyone groaning and muttering under their breath about him but shoved the feeling back to stew on the backburner, along with all the other times his team has expressed their exasperation at him. Normally he'd fight them and tell them his alarm didn't go off on time, that he tried to wake up early just so he wouldn't be late again, but he got the distinct feeling none of them would believe him, besides maybe Coran.

This morning's training required them to be down in the pit and duel through the levels for as long as they could, alone, until they physically couldn't anymore or they got "killed", as Coran had cheerfully explained. They were then required to popcorn the match to whoever they decided and everyone had to go before it could rotate back to repeating anyone. They also weren't allowed to help the paladin in the pit by shouting encouragement or even warn them about oncoming attacks. Coran explained this sequence was supposed to give them the feeling of if they were on their own and being over run, and what they should do in case this happens.  
Easy enough, right?

Pidge started the sequence and, despite her small size, absolutely obliterated it until one of the gladiators got a good shot and hit her in the back of the head. She snarled and whipped around to electrocute it with her bayard but Allura had pulled her before she could activate the electric green taser.

"Fantastic, Katie!" Allura had chirped to the green paladin, who blinked owlishly at the use of her name as Allura didn't often use it. "You made it through fourty-two sequences by yourself. Once everyone goes through this exercise at least once, we'll pause so everyone can get their breath back and discuss what everyone could've done different." She explained, tapping on the hand held monitoring pad that allows her to keep track of the Paladins vitals. While it wasn't necessary for her to have it at that exact moment, Lance would sometimes catch her looking at as if lost in a memory of when her father used to be a paladin.

"Who would you like to go after you Pidge?" Shiro asked as she entered observation deck from his place on the floor, his legs sitting in the lotus pose and his hands resting palms up on his knees, as if he had just finished meditating. Pidge placed a hand on her hip, bayard dangling loosely from her other hand as she looked the four boys over. When her eyes swept over Lance, his jaw clenched to the point where his teeth creaked and his gums ached from the pressure. When she grinned and pointed at him, he had to refrain from showing his anxiety, though he knew from Allura's slightly knit eyebrows, that she saw his heartrate pick up.

Smoothly, Lance popped from his own place on the floor and grinned back at the smaller paladin. "You're on Pidgeotto. If I make it through more sequences than you, you have to buy me whatever I want the next time we stop at a Space Mall. Deal?" He asked, trying to stomp down his anxiety and put on his usual carefree face. It must've worked because Allura wasn't frowning at the pad anymore but was rolling her eyes and smiling fondly at their sibling-like interaction.

"Deal! And if I win, you have to make it to training and meetings on time for a full phoeb. But knowing you, Lance, you won't make it past sequence ten before you're calling uncle or get hit." She joked back but shook his hand with a grin. "Can't wait to see you actually on time to training."

And while Lance knew she was joking, the barb about him not making it past level ten actually stung his ego, though he smiled around the hurt and shook her hand back before waltzing out the doors and down to the training pad.

"Begin training sequence, level one, blue paladin," Allura called out over the intercom system and almost instantly a gladiator came from the ceiling, landing near silently behind him. Lance twisted around and quickly shot it cleanly through the head just as two more dropped from the ceiling off to the downed drones left. He rolled and fired another shot, shooting clean through both of their heads cleanly. The easy routine continued for about half a varga before the words 'Level Fifteen' rolled across his visor, where a small smirk graced his lips. _Can't make it to level 10 my ass... Take that Pidge._ He thought near bitterly and could almost hear the groans coming from Pidge.

Lance managed another fifteen doboshes before something connected solidly against the back of his neck, right where his armor doesn't cover if he's not scrunched up. He went to whirl around and blast whatever hit him when he felt a thick cord tighten around his throat and effectively cut off his airway. _Mierda...!_ He hasn't heard Allura announce that the sequence is over so he can only assume this doesn't mean he's "dead", though he can definitely tell his vision is getting hazy and black near the edges, so he knows it's been wrapped around his neck for at least three and a have doboshes before an idea squirms into his head.

He wraps the cord around his arm once, twice before grabbing it firmly and yanking, trying desperately to dislodge it from the hands of who or whatever has it, when he hears Allura over the intercom that the sequence is over. Immediately the cord loosens, becoming slack and suddenly he can breath again. He yanks it over his head and throws it across the room, rubbing his neck through the flight suit, his lungs rattling as he takes in air and trudges his way up the stairs to where the other paladins are sitting and staring at him with mixed expressions.

Hunk and Coran are clearly worried about him but since he's not bleeding, they don't say anything. Keith looks at him with what could've been concern if he didn't have drawn eyebrows, crossed arms, and roll his eyes as soon as Lance looks at him. Shiro and Allura look disappointed that he barely made it through twenty sequences before being "killed". And finally, Pidge looks beyond smug.

"Well, you made it through at least ten but you still didn't beat me, so why don't we settle and you show up on time for the next half phoeb and I'll buy you a few t-shirts? That settle it?" She asked, holding a hand out and Lance sighed internally, nodding with a halfhearted smile.

"Alright, blue paladin, you made it through twenty-one sequences," Lance flinched at that because she only called him that when he disappointed her. "Who would you like to go next?" He pointed to Hunk before shuffling to the side and plopping on the ground away from everyone so he could discreetly rub at his neck, Blue ever present in the back of his head and assuring him it wasn't his fault. It made him feel better, but not by much.

The rest of the training went like this; Hunk made it through forty-five sequences before he got more or less dog-piled. Keith made it to fifty-three but would've kept going if he hadn't of gotten a broadsword to the side of his helmet, which jarred him enough he had to lay down we he got back to the observation deck. Shiro made it through sixy-seven and all but collapsed when a well placed shot hit him in a sore spot from their last mission. He insisted he was fine but looked beyond relieved when Allura ordered him to sit and rest. Then came the part he was dreading. The evaluation before they all did it again.

"We'll start with Lance," Allura said, looking down at the pad as if it was responsible for her current mood, his name coming out of her mouth as if she had to force it. "What could he have done differently?"

Keith was the first one to pipe up when it came to criticizing him. "He could've opened his ears and listened for the sign of the snare style gladiators. Their charge up sounds different to the others and while it may've still caught him, at least it wouldn't have caught him around his throat and strangled him." The red paladin threw in a shoulder-shrug right at the end, as if that would make his words sting any less. 

When no one else threw in a suggestion, Allura nodded and looked at Lance. She opened her mouth to say something right as the castles alarms started blaring. A moment of dumbfounded staring at each other later, they were all in their Lions and looking for the danger that caused the ships sensors to go haywire.

\------------------

After a few doboshes of aimlessly flying around the Castle, looking for threats, and Coran informing them that there was nothing in the vicinity that should've set off the Castle, the lions all turned to head back to their respective hangers. Lance lagged behind, hoping for a few moments with Blue and to feel her reassuring, motherly embrace.

"I don't ask for much Blue, y'know? Just a little reassurance that I'm not a total screw up every once in a while..." He muttered softly into the quiet of her cockpit after he muted himself from the team chat, her soft rumbling making him feel better. He knew what she meant despite the fact she spoke no words. "Thanks, _hermosa_ , that makes me feel better. Better than I've felt in a while." Lance murmured, gently patting the console as she let out a purr like noise.

He sighed and grabbed the sticks, aiming Blue back towards the castle after a few doboshes of quiet with his lion, neither noticing the glowing yellow eyes following them before blinking out of sight.

When he landed Blue in her hanger and made his way back to the training deck, he was met with silence and an empty room. Confused, the blue paladin made his way to the great hall and found everyone staring up at the screen.

"Lance, my boy, there you are. We were beginning to get worried!" Coran said, deep worry lines etched into his face, as Lance made his way over to everyone else. Despite his own doubts, they all did look different forms of worried but he didn't know if that was for himself or not. When Lance looked up at the screen, he could tell that most of that worry was not for himself.

"Alright, now that everyone's here, I can explain what I found," Pidge began, looking at him pointedly but her voice held no malice. "When I got back to the bridge, I figured I had a little time to decypher the attack signal the castle transmitted before the ship could clear it from the system.

"I was trying to figure out why the ship was sending out the signal that we were being attacked when we very clearly weren't, and I came across this message, telling us we were needed at a Blade of Marmora base two quadrants over from here, in the Ru'Vom Omega Nine Quadrant. The message doesn't say what planet, which is weird, but I figure we can just hop between them and see if they've been attacked recently. It ent on to say what they were being attacked by and that they were injured, but before I could decodeb exactly _who_ sent it, the message just deleted itself from the castle ship's memory."

Before she could continue, Keith jumped in. "If it was sent by the Blade, we have to help them." When Pidge glared at him for interrupting, he looked to Shiro. "I know you think this is a trap, Shiro, and I agree, it probably is... But what if it's actually the Blade and they really do need help?" Keith then looked Allura. "I've checked my resources and there is a base in that quadrant, though it's only used by desperate Blades that get separated from their teams and as training for formerly loyal Galra, since it's so out of reach of any civilizations. I say we go there and at least check on them."

Lance crossed his arms and made a face but didn't speak, knowing his voice would be spoken over or ignored all together as his opinion on the Blade was generally negative, and tuned them out as the all discuss what they should do.

If he was listening closer, he would've heard Keith volunteer to go alone and everyone argue. He would've heard Allura suggest he take Hunk or Pidge as backup, and Shiro suggest he take Lance, since he had the most long range weapon. He would've heard the silence, followed by Keith agree and ask him to come with him on the mission and explain everything.

But he wasn't paying attention because they always talk over him so he got into the habit of just not speaking, which lead to not listening.

Which lead him to day dream and let his mind wander back to Varadero beach and his family, how they'd spent the summer before he went off to the Garrison in Cuba. His mind wandered to his twin sister, Rachel, and he wondered if she ever ended up daing that guy she wouldn't shut up about in the last letter he read from home before he got launched into space in a giant blue lion. Just as he started thinking of his moms garlic knots and letting a sad smile overtake his face, he head someone say his name and looked up to see everyone staring at him.

 _Wait..._ dios, _they're all looking at me._ "Uhh, say that again?" He said and flinched slightly when Keith rolled his eyes and Allura gave him a look that he knew translated into _'I'm disappointed but not surprised..._.

"I asked if you'd go on this mission with me? We're gonna wormhole to the quadrant then take Red to the planet and look around. We're taking Red because he's the fastest, but I'm gonna need someone to take point and watch my back, just in case. So are you in or not?" He explained snappishly, eyebrows drawn together in an angry scowl as he stared Lance down.

He got the distinct feeling Keith would rather go on this mission with anyone else but since he was their only sniper, Keith had no choice but to suck it up.

"Yeah man, when do we leave?" Lance responded back with as enthusiastically as he could muster which must've been enough for the others because they all stopped looking at him like he barfed on their dog. Despite no one looking at him anymore, he felt eyes burn into the back of his neck and a sick feeling when he thought about leaving the Castle of Lions for long without Blue.

"Now. Come on. Once we get to the quadrant, we're leaving for the base so you better be at Red by the time we exit that wormhole, Lance." Keith said, poking him in the center of his chest as he stomped past to no doubt brood with Red for the next few doboshes.

Lance watched the other walk away and swallowed thickly around the sudden lump around his throat, a bad feeling settling itself beneath his sternum where Keith poked as he set off after the red paladin, the last positive thought he'd have for a while flitting through his brain.

 _It's only for a few Varga,_ bien, _nothing to worry about._


	2. Gone

Lance jolted from his place standing behind Keith as they entered the atmosphere of the planet Varkish, turbulence so bad he ended up clutching the pilot seat in such a death grip, he's surprised Keith wasn't snapping at him for digging his fingers into the cushion.

From the Red lion's initial scans of the planet, there was no life anywhere on the surface due to how harsh and unforgiving Varkish was. That's not to say that _no_ life can survive here, and that life _wasn't_ surviving here, just that it was extremely difficult and any life forms were tunneled a good hundred or so feet underground.

The only reason they were landing here is because Pidge triangulated the signal and found it was coming from this section of space and this is the only planet for another quadrant.

Aside from the arid air that made breathing without a regulator or helmet entirely impossible, the soil was brittle and had a chalky look to it, in Lance's opinion. The planet also had such severe temperature fluctuation that any plant life that _did_ survive in the near poisonous air and nutrient-less soil would turn into charcoal sticks during the day cycle due to the close proximity to the star, Nexter Arv, and into ice cubes during the night cycle.

Which gave Keith and Lance about three varga to find the Blade member that sent out the distress signal, or risk turning to paladin stew in their armor and flight suits when the planet's sun got to it's highest point.

As one could imagine, Lance was super stoked to be here.

The entire planet is also a sickly greenish brown color - the sky is the same color with dark swirling blue shades that he concludes are clouds - that kinda reminds him of Mars, since it's a lifeless planet that's all one shade. The main difference though, aside from the color, is that Mars is always cold and has less gravity than Earth while this place is more similar to a desert with the same gravity as Earth.

If Earth and Mars had a kid, this plant would be it. 

He nearly cried in relieve when Red landed and let them out. Lance loved the lions, they did awesome things and who wouldn't love a giant, near sentient space robot cat that could fly, aside from crazy people and the Galra? But, he hated how badly they took on turbulence or being fired on because they shook as if they were a real cat that got a piece of tape stuck to their paw.

Two doboshes after landing, the right side of Voltron were standing in front of Red and looking around blankly as Varkish was more or less a smooth, terrainless ball of dirt in space and the two had no markers to even try and help them.

Just as Lance was opening his mouth to suggest they stick together until they found at least _some_ clue that a blade member was actually on this freezer-burnt piece of toast, Keith spoke.

"Okay, since you don't have a plan, I'll start heading due North and you head East. Keep Red over your right shoulder and try not to get yourself injured because I won't be able to save your ass until a few hours later, and by then you'll probably be dead from the heat. Got it?"

Keith, never one to hold back or wait for others, turned and started walking away without giving Lance a chance to defend himself or suggest anything else. The blue paladin just stayed silent for a second before speaking into the com system, eyes trained on the slowly disappearing figure.

"Yeah, okay man. Meet back here in three hours if we don't find anything?" He was met with silence so he kept talking, but started his own trek at a right angle from the direction Keith disappeared in. "No you're right, we shouldn't talk about that or anything, _hermano_ , bad idea to actually try and figure things out before just _fucking_ off into the horizon on a slow-cooker of a planet!" Lance shouted, arms crossed as he stomped off to the East, angrily muttering the entire time.

"I'm Keith, I think I know everything just because I have a mullet and my adoptive brother is Shiro, so I _clearly_ don't have to listen to anyone else. Why should I listen to a poor kid from Cuba, who only got into the Garrison because he won a lottery that gave him a full ride from his shitty high school to one of the most prestigious academies in North America?" Lance stopped short when he said that, his jaw clenching as he stamped down his anger.

Keith wasn't like that. He was just mad and blowing things out of proportion.

Once his breathing was normal again, Lance let out a soft sigh, dropping his arms from their now cramped position across his chest and let them dangle. He glanced over his right shoulder t make sure he was go-... Where was the Red lion?

Better question... Where were his footprints?

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Once Keith spun around and stomped off, he knew he was in the wrong. Lance didn't deserve to be treated like shit just because his stomach was in knots over this mission.

He wasn't necessarily worried about the Blade member, they're all trained how to take care of themselves for days with the basics, and how to stretch those basics as long as they can, if they ever get stranded somewhere and have to send out a distress signal.

No. He was worried about Lance running off and doing exactly what Keith told him not to do. Which is dumb because Lance has enough brain cells to know better than to jump down a hole without trying to contact someone or to tumble down a cliff, but that didn't stop him from a bad feeling in his chest the longer he spent away from Lance. And the longer he walked and found nothing around him that indicated life, the deeper and harsher that feeling instilled itself into him to the point his skin crawled and his stomach hurt.

After less than a half varga of walking, Keith turned around and walked back towards Red, the large mechanical lion standing proud and clear on the horizon, giving him a straight shot back.

Once back at Red and assuring that Lance didn't come back himself to squirrel away in the significant cooler cockpit, at which point the feeling in his stomach started getting so bad he actually thought he'd puke, he set off after the blue paladin, following the clear footprints in the cracking earth until they just... stopped.

Glancing around, Keith looked for the telltale blue and white armor, hoping maybe, somehow, Lance did in fact end up just back tracking and veering off his path to Red. His brows furrowed together and he turned in a full circle, glancing at the Red lion who was still visable on the horizon, if a little fuzzy and small because of the distance.

Where did Lance go?

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Returning to the world of the living with a bone jarring jolt, Lance slammed his head into a wall hard enough his teeth clacked together and he nearly knocked himself back out again. He groaned loudly and threw his hands up to his head, clutching the large lump that was already forming on the crown of his scalp. _"Ah mierda que duele como una perra ..."_ Slowly, he cracked his eyes open and immediately regretted it as his vision was swimming, squeezing them shut once more.

A few doboshes later has Lance with opened eyes, though they're heavily squinted, and taking in his surroundings as he adjusts to the, admittedly dim, lights.

He's in a small room, about eight foot by eight foot, with an indention, that he can only assume is the door that has a two foot long purple-white light on either side of it at what he assumes is around eye level. He can see no hinges or handle on the door which must mean it slides up or down. Another thing he noticed is that his armor is missing and his flight suit has been traded in for the same clothing that they found Shiro in. He shivers at the idea that he was stripped then dressed while unconcious.

It takes him an embarrissingly long time to figure out, which he's blaming fully on the head wound he just gave himself, but he eventually decides he's been kidnapped by the Galra.

One big fuzzy problem he's come across, though, is that he has no idea how they managed to grab him and it doesn't seem like it's coming back to him anytime soon.

Before he can dwell on how he was taken, the door beeps before hissing and retracting upwards into the ceiling to reveal, surprise, a Galra soldier. This guy looks too angry to be a common foot soldier but is clearly taking orders so he's not quite a Lieutenant or a Captain, or whatever the Galra equivalent is.

"Stand." The big alien growls out, his yellow eyes narrowing in thinly veiled anger at being on retrieving duty. Lance decides then and there he does not like this soldier.

"Y'know, I'm good down here. _¿Entiendes verdad?_ Right." Lance says from his place in the far corner. He's not trying to be cute or anything, honest, he can just barely sit upright with how fuzzy his vision is, he doubts he could stand by himself. That answer is, apparently, the one the Galran was hoping for, as he's ears flatten backwards and he shows sharp and serated teeth in a demented version of a grin.

Just as Lance is rethinking his snarkiness, the soldier stalks into the room and extends what looks like a cattle prod but instead of a taser on the end to encourage him to walk without getting close, has a long thin whip-like cord that looks about the same length that Lance is tall. Oh, and it has sharp, fish-hook looking barbs attached along the last foot or so.

Lance definitely does not like this soldier or his freaky weapon.

The brunette kicks feebly and presses himself deeper into the wall, holding up a hand in a placating motion one would use on a skittish dog, to no avail as the soldier just flicks his wrist and wraps the whip around Lances arm several times and _yanks_ , digging the hooks into the exposed flesh of his arm and pulling him forward, to his feet.

 _¡Follame en la cara!_ It takes a lot in him to force down the cry of pain as his arm is shredded to ribbons and he's dragged along down a long and straight corridor.

Lance has just gotten to the point where he's kinda tuned out the pain along his arm when he hears it.

The roar of a crowd.

The clash of weapons hitting each other.

Screams of pain followed closely by even louder cheering from the crowd.

 _Mierda_ , he's being led on a death walk to the gladiator pits like a prize cow to the slaughterhouse.


	3. It does

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big thanks to VEN1AS for proof-reading and acting as betaing this chapter this for me!
> 
> \----
> 
> Wow! Three chapters in three days? I just love this story so far so updates will probably end up being a daily thing for a while.

Lance stumbled through the doorway, barely getting his hands up in time to keep himself from smashing his face straight into the wall. Just as he was turning around to let out a snarky, half-baked comment about hospitality, the door slammed shut and he was pitched into darkness.

Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the dim light peeking from under the door and he was met with multiple sets of eyes watching him all around the room. Each alien that was in the small cell with him were dressed in similar clothes as him and their species ranged from an Olkari to a Balmeran to even other Galra. Aside from the clothes, they all shared two things that Lance was yet to gain.

A prosthetic and a collar.

The Galran captive was missing both his arms, an eye, and a tail, if that swishing metal thing behind him was in fact a tail. He'd look super cool if he wasn't glaring Lance down like he was personally responsible for this entire situation. Actually, now that he looked at them a little more, they were _all_ looking at him like he killed their entire familes.

Mierda... _These guys don't like newbies, huh?_ Lance thought to himself as he backed away, pressing his back firmly into the wall, and put a little distance between himself and these hostile prisoners. Slowly, he slid down the wall and pulled his knees to his chest, not taking his eyes from the Galran, as he seemed to be the one that hated Lance the most.

They must've been sitting in silence, staring each other down for at least a varga, when the door opened and a guard, different from before, stepped in and dropped a limp and heavily bleeding but breathing body in the middle of the room before angling a device to another prisoner and pressing a button. Near instantly, a long electric blue and rubbery looking rope shot out and connected to someone near the back. The guard pressed another button and the rope retracted, pulling along what looked like a Pugian, a Galra, and whatever Nyma was.

When the tall and lanky, but clearly underfed alien cried out at being yanked along on what looked like a freshly amputated leg that hasn't had time to adjust to it's new prosthetic, Lance acted before his brain could process. Once his brain caught up, he was already shouting at the guard and blocking the injured alien from the Galran's sight

"Hey! _¡Joder la cara!_ Pick on someone your own size!" Lance mentally smacked himself for his words but not his actions, not even when the guard released the injured alien and he got a fist to the face for his efforts.

The impact had him crying out when his nose crunched easily under the fist of the big guard and seeing stars as a clawed hand got tangled in his hair before being promptly dragged. Lance kicked and squirmed and thrashed as best he could but that's kinda hard when, everytime he managed to get his feet under him even a little bit, he was yanked to the side and slammed into a wall.

By the time they stopped and Lance was released, he couldn't see straight. His vision was clearing slowly but as soon as it did and he tried to get to his hands and knees, a foot slammed down into his back and he screamed at the sickening crack he felt before he heard.

He didn't dare move anymore, which seemed like the best choice because after a moment, the guard scoffed and left, slamming the door behind him. Once it was deemed safe, Lance got up carefully and looked around.

Lining the two walls without the door or the big gate were weapons. Everything from a dagger the size of his pinky finger to a sword longer than he was tall and even staffs, axes, shields, and a weird mace looking thing that attached to another mace thing by a two foot long chain and a stick in the middle. The only thing they didn't have, he noticed, was blasters or guns of any kind.

He hobbled his way over to a three foot long blade that he could practically hear his uncle say was a broadsword. A small smile overtook his face, despite the situation, when he thought of his uncle Alvaro, who stayed in Cuba, and his affinity for North American weaponry. The weapon itself was vastly different from it's Earthling counterpart, if the entire middle of the sword missing and the dagger poking out the bottom of the hilt were any indication, but it was very clearly still a broadsword

Reaching out, Lance grabbed the handle and hefted it in front of himself. He'd never swung a sword before and he preferred to work with guns, as his bayard showed, but he supposed if he had to fight with one, he could. As soon as he had the weapon in his hands, a buzzer blared and the walls got an electric shield over them that stopped him from being able to choose a different weapon even if he wanted to. A moment later, the gate to his left made a hissing noise and started rolling upwards slowly.

Lance clenched his jaw and held the sword more firmly in his right hand, knuckles turning white from how hard his grip was. _Lend me your knowledge of this weapon, Alvaro, because I desperately need it._

Let the fight begin.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Keith got back to Red and took off, trying to see if he could see Lance from the air. Despite circling a 50 mile radius from where they originally landed, neither the lion or his paladin saw the Cuban on the ugly green planet. Keith clenched his teeth and squeezed the controls before angling Red back to space where the Castle was waiting for them.

He landed Red and high tailed it back to the bridge where everyone was waiting. He barely had a chance to open his mouth before they were were speaking.

"Keith, welcome back, that was fast. Did you find the Blade member?" Shiro.

"We weren't expecting you to be back so fast, considering who you took with you." Pidge.

"Yes, welcome back Number Four! Where's Number three and you can fill us in on what happened?" Coran.

"Yeah, where's Lance? Is he down with Blue? Oh no, did something happen between you two so now he's wallowing? I told him not to do that, it's not healthy." Hunk.

And finally, Allura who only spoke when it was quiet. "Keith. You weren't scheduled to be back for at least another half varga. This planet is going to get to dangerously hot temperatures soon and not even the most experienced Blade member can survive that heat." She paused to tap the console, but even that pause wasn't long enough for Keith to be able to get a word in. "The Castle isn't informing me of an unknown person on board so you didn't bring him. Did you have to come back because Lance-"

"Lance isn't with me." Keith interrupted and glared at the floor. The silence that followed made him squirm before he looked back up. He wishes he didn't though, because he met Hunk's hurt face and kicked himself for being so tactless about the execution of that particular piece of bad news.

"What do you mean he 'isn't with you', Keith?" Shiro asked, causing Keith to flinch at the nervous tone his brother had, as Hunk walked over to the console and pulled up the cameras to replay Keiths return as if he thought maybe the red and blue paladins were playing a bad practical joke on everyone. After it was evident that this _wasn't_ a joke, Hunk whirled around and glared at Keith.

"Where is he? How'd you lose a person in a barren wasteland?"

"Okay, we landed and Lance bolted from Red. I met him outside and he was acting weird, shuffling from foot to foot and squirming. I let my temper get the best of me because if he didn't want to come with me, he could've just said so! So, we split up to cover more ground, but I told him to keep Red over his right shoulder." Keith shuffled uncomfortably when he realized everyone's eyes were on him. "I stormed off but after a half varga, I turned back and went to go find him and apologize. I followed his footprints and they just.... Stopped."

Pulling a screen up on his gauntlet, he tapped a few buttons and shared the picture to the Castle's monitor and showed them what he meant by 'stopped'.

He looked at everyone's faces while they looked at the picture and knew that they were just as worried as he was about their blue paladin. He may aggravate them all with his tardiness and general air of laziness when it came to training, but that didn't mean they didn't all care for him to a certain degree

"I looked _everywhere_ I even went as far out as 50 miles from where we started just to see if I could find him. I have no idea where he went."

The second he stopped talking, a beeping from the monitor alerted them that they were receiving a transmission from the Galra fleet. It was a live feed. After a moment of quiet discussion between the six, they accepted it and were immediately greeted with Haggar's face.

Keith could see Shiro flinch back slightly from his peripherals and watched as the witch let a grin overtake her face. Letting them know she had seen their leaders reaction

"Hello princess, Champion." Haggar crooned, eyes fixated on Shiro who was three shades paler than normal and trembling, her voice making the hair on the back of Keith's neck standing up on end. He didn't know what she wanted but he knew it couldn't be good.

"Speak what you want, witch, or I'm ending the transmission." Allura snapped, galaxy eyes glaring at the other woman who only smiled wider at the threat.

"You're more than welcome to end the transmission, _princess_ ," Haggar hissed the word as if it had a bad taste. "But I would hold off. I have something of yours that you seem to have... misplaced." Her eyes slid to Keith and immediately he knew what she meant.

"Allura." He turned and met her eyes from his spot beside her. She turned her glare to him and went to retort but stopped short. Her eyes widened before whipping back to Haggar.

"Fine, _Haggar_ , speak your piece." She ground out, which seemed to delight the witch as she chuckled and started walking, camera following her.

"I have a proposition for you. I'll return your lost property, if you even care that it's missing, if you surrender Voltron to Lord Zarkon." She said, not looking at the camera she she navigated the hallways.

"Why would you suggest something you know we would refuse? To watch us squirm?" Allura shouted at the monitor. As much as they wanted Lance back, they couldn't give Voltron to Zarkon. They'd have to figure something else out.

"Of course I knew you'd refuse, I just wanted to hear you say you didn't want him back." Haggar said simply and, before anyone could say more, walked through a door that made any discussion moot as it was deafening. The sounds of cheering, screaming, and a variety of other things had them all flinching back from the screen.

Shiro whispered a soft 'no, not there' and sank to the floor, his jaw clenched so hard it quivered and his prosthetic hand covered his mouth. His eyes were wide and staring past the druid at the pit

"Ah, Champion, you remember the gladiator pits. Good." Haggar purred out. Her tone, or perhaps it was a memory, had Shiro on his feet and out the door before any of them could blink. Haggar continued as if Shiro's departure never happened.

"As I was saying, the gladiator pit. A truly barbaric spectacle to behold but even worse to be part of. Since the Champions departure from the pits, many have tried and failed to take his crown, as none were as vicious as him in the throes of battle." She paused just as the poor soul in the pit, a small reptilian alien with long claws and large, but clipped, wings that the Castle automatically informed them was a species hunted for sport to near extinction for it's large and glorious wings, was run through with what looked to be a sword made of molten steal or just straight fire. Pidge and Hunk both dropped their gazes from the monitor as the body was pulled off the sword and dragged off to the side ans through a doorway, the smaller of the two paladins shaking with both anger and fear for their fellow paladin.

"Many have come close, like that young warrior, but they never quite manage to take the crown before being brought down." A dark chuckle worms it's way from her throat and has all them bristling. "But now that he's fallen, he'll be healed and given time to rest before doing it all over again, just like all the Champion." Haggar explained, just as Shiro came back looking a little better but not much.

"Welcome back, Champion. Now, while I would've preferred to have the black paladin, I can settle with this one if he doesn't die." She said just as the gate finished opening and a figure walked out slowly, holding a weapon that dwarfed the person holding it, his mask of confidence slipping the further out he got. Even if Haggar hadn't told them beforehand that this was Lance, they would've recognized him anywhere.

Not including his right arm being shredded from the elbow to wrist and dripping blood, he looks unscathed. He's not wearing his armor, flight suit, or even shoes and he looks pale at being in front of so many people, but that's probably because they're calling for his head of a spike and demanding his blood water the arena floor.

None of them can speak or even move.

Haggar grabs the camera, presses a few buttons, and speaks. "Enjoy the show. Shout and plead for him all you wish, he will not be able to hear or see you." Then, she throws the floating camera into the pit. It stops short of the ground before slowly floating upwards until it's just above Lance's height and focuses on the now shaking blue paladin who's clutching the sword hilt like his life depends on it because...

Well...

It does.


	4. Formidable

The gathered paladins and two Alteans stared at the screen in varyng stages of horror when they realized what was about to happen.

Shiro had this far off look on his face, as if he wasn't sure what he was seeing was real or not. Hunk was covering his mouth with both hands, his skin three shades paler than normal as if he was about to bolt and vomit. Pidge ended up sinking to the floor and tucking her knees close to her chest, prepared to hide her face if Lance was about to be injured. Allura, ever stoic, kept a neutral face but Keith could tell that she wasn't unaffected by this. And Coran...

Coran was openly sobbing. It was no secret that the elder Altean saw Lance as the son he lost when Altea was destroyed. This must've been a special form of torture for him.

Keith was clutching his bayard in a white knuckle grip that made his bones ache, he's surprised he hasn't cracked the handle yet.

When Lance carefully made his way across the arena until he was standing in front of the gladiator, they all held their breath. Lance appeared to be speaking to the bigger alien and neither moved for three doboshes before, as if unfrozen and zapped by something unseen, the other launched across the dirt towards the blue paladin.

Lance barely managed to move in time, rolling to the side before spinning around smoothly like he tended to do in training. Their deadly dance continued for a while, the large alien, that Coran softly chimed in was a Va'shin, a large brute like alien that was normally peaceful unless provoked at which point that'd attack until the person they were fighting was killed, proved to be a master swordsman as he had full control of his weapon and never faltered.

Lance on the other-hand...

It was clear he'd never wielded a blade before, and if he had then it wasn't long enough to actually understand what he was doing. If he wasn't fighting for his literal life, Keith might've seen his desperate flailing with the broadsword to be funny.

Keith slapped a hand over his mouth the moment Lance made a dangerous mistake, drawing everyone's eye to him and his horror struck expression before glancing back to the monitor.

A moment later, everyone else's expressions followed to a similar state

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Lance's arms were getting tired.

He knew within five doboshes of holding this hulking piece of metal that it was a bad choice to go with, especially when he had no idea how to hold a sword properly. If he had known he would only be able to pick one weapon and not actually go through them, he might've just picked up a dagger and called it a day.

Lance slowly walked from the gate he was huddled by and into the middle of the arena, eyes hyper-focused on the flame sword, - and seriously, why can't he have a cool weapon? - speaking softly in hopes that maybe they could make it out of this fight without killing or maiming each other.

"Hey there big guy... Uh, listen, I don't wanna fight you and I know you don't wanna fight me, so how about we throw our weapons down and just say, " _¡Púdrete!_ We're _out_ of here!" Huh? does-doesn't that sound better than-than-than all this needless bloodshed?"

The other just stared past him, breathing heavily, as if he had never spoken. Just as Lance was contemplating if he could scale the wall of the arena without getting killed, the alien, who he's naming James, lunged at him with a guttural snarl that had Lance shrieking and rolling to the side, narrowly dodging having his head cut off.

He stopped smoothly, now in a snipers crouch before cursing himself and scrambling to his feet. He'd barely gotten his sword up in time to block - in the back of his head he heard Keith yell at him and call it a 'parry' but he didn't have time to fight with imaginary Keith when he was trying not to die - five or six strikes when James brought his weapon back and swung the fire sword over his own left shoulder and, in a wide arc, brought it down on Lance once more. Being the genius he is, he held it over himself and braced with his other hand in another brace people always did in movies.

Bad move. Very bad, no good, horrible move.

The force of James' swing caused him to drop to his knees and, since James clearly doesn't know how to let up or fucking chill, eventually his back. His sword, being hollow down the entire center, didn't protect his hand or any of his supple, not exactly 'fire resistant' skin from flaming bits of metal and oil that dripped from James' weapon.

He cried out as the flaming pieces of Hell dropped onto his palms and sizzled, continuously burning, but forced himself not to falter. Lance's arms were beginning to shake so badly he thought they might actually break when James let up long enough to bring the sword down once more.

Straight through Lance's stomach. And twisted for good measure.

His sword slid from his grip, landing next to his head as his hands went to clutch the blade instinctively, momentarily forgetting about the fire. The blade was ripped out of his gut with a sucking wet noise, the sob that accompanied that gross noise being drowned out, just as tears started pricking his slowly closing eyes, the blood-thirsty roaring of the ever present crowd fading.

He always assumed he'd die is space. Well, not always. Not a deca-pheob and a half ago when he as laying on Varadero Beach in Cuba with his family over the summer before he went back to the Garrison. Not even four pheobs after that when he was squirreled away in his room cramming for a final he forgot about and plans to advance space travel past Pluto were something that a CEO's intern kept tucked away in a notebook, hidden from prying eyes that would eventually claim the idea as their own.

Not even the day they found Blue and he was launched hundreds of light years away from Earth.

But when they started seriously fighting the Galra, that was when he figured he'd die here.

He just wished it wasn't in the dirt, as a prisoner on a Galra ship, surrounded in a halo of his blood with screaming aliens around him

He could feel blood soaking into his hair just as his eyes closed fully but apparently James wasn't done because he stomped on Lance's ankle, waking the blue paladin as the bones in his leg flattened and crunched as if made of paper.

He was letting out a throaty, wet scream that broke off into choked back sobbing before he fully knew what was going on. Faintly, over the din of blood rushing through his ears, he could hear the Galra cheering wildly, more than happy to see a paladin of Voltron as a bloody, crying mess in the dirt. Tears that had been pooling in his eyes spilled into the blood and packed sand of the arena as he thrashed uselessly under the large alien. His flailing was short lived as James pressed the same foot into his sluggishly bleeding gut and forced him to be still, checking to be sure he was alive and awake.

Well, long enough to cut cleanly through his right leg, just above the knee.

Lance passed out after that, his scream echoing in his nightmares.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Keith looked away when the Va'shin crushed Lances ankle - though ankle was a very loose term as the aliens foot covered Lance's ankle and the bottom half of his shin - and knew he'd never get the scream of pain mixed with crunching bone out of his head for as long as he lived.

He didn't even have to look up to know that Pidge was hiding her face in her knees and crying, Hunk was throwing up in the bathroom down the hall, Shiro was clutching his head and sitting on the floor - probably remembering his own time in the pits-, and Allura and Coran were staring at the screen, refusing to look away despite the tears flowing down their cheeks.

Keith chanced a look back at the screen at the worst time.

His eyes met the monitor right as the sword met Lance's leg and sliced through it like butter. Scampering feet told him that Pidge saw too and was running for the bathroom. Scratch what he said before. He'd never get the sounds of the crowd cheering and demanding Lances head get cut off next as his scream faded into the noise.

He took off after Pidge and Hunk, barreling past them on their way out and barely making it to a toilet to empty his stomach into.

When he was sure he wasn't going to puke again, he rinsed his mouth out and met the duo outside the doors who both looked a sickly pale green color.

They all walked back to the bridge in silence, none daring to speak. Keith flinched when he heard Haggar's disgusting laugh at seeing three paladins looking so sick, and he vowed that he'd kill her if he ever got the chance.

"Did you enjoy the show, paladins? I did. I'm surprised he lasted so long, considering he has no background in fighting with such weapon." The druid shrugged as if Lance being cut down didn't bother her.

"What will you do with his body, _witch_? Launch it into the nearest star? Encase it and keep it as a trophy?" Allura spit out, practically snarling as tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes and she glared the druid down.

"Whatever do you mean, Princess?" Haggar asked innocently with a sharp grin. "He's still alive, though he was fading fast." She spoke with a throaty rasp, as if she was telling a secret. "You must have no faith in him if you thought him dead. Humans are very fragile so it's no wonder you believed him dead."

She sweeps to the side and presents a passed out and bleeding Lance strapped to a vertical slab, visible from the waist up.

Aside from the gaping hole in his stomach, and the missing leg they can't see, Lance's face is covered in blisters, presumably from having his face so close to the flaming sword and having it drip on him. They can't fully see his hands, but what they can see is inflamed and the skin is peeling away. Right next to his stomach wound, poking through his shirt, is a white and red thing that vaguely looks like a rib, but barely.

The residents of the castle all gasp at seeing his wounds up close but none look away, fearing what Haggar is about to do to him. She walks over and presses her hands over the sides of his head, cupping the temples and whispering. A spark of black lighting zaps his head and a dobosh later, her hands are gone.

Quite suddenly, Lance seizes for three ticks before settling. His eyes shoot open, looking as if they're glowing, and he brings in a large breath as if he hadn't been breathing the entire time. For all they know, he wasn't as this was Haggar showing that even if he dies in the pits, she'll just bring him back. He coughs a few times after taking in a breath then settles, his head lolling forward slightly as he breathes raggedly.

A collar is clamped around his throat from behind, causing him to yelp. He seems to realize that Haggar is in the room because his dazed, lost expression turns sharp and calculating, a look none have seen on the blue paladin in a while.

"Thanks for the jewelry, _lady_ , but I'm not really into BDSM. Even if I was, I'm definitely not a bottom, so if you wanna take the collar back, that'd be great." He snarks at her, eyes never once leaving her to look at the team and Keith can only assume that means he either can't see them or he's intentionally avoiding looking at them as if hes ashamed to be in this position.

When Haggar steps up to him and presses her hand against his stomach wound, he opens his mouth to let off another comment. Keith prepares to watch her painfully heal his grotesque wound. He isn't expecting, none of them are, her to shove her hand through his gut and coat her hand in his blood.

Lance is stronger than any of them gave him credit for. He clenches his teeth and throws his head back hard enough the sound echoes but doesn't cry out. When she pulls her hand back out, it brings with it a sloshing wave that splatters and drips onto the ground. Still, Lance is silent though his eyes are squeezed shut. After a moment, his eyes open.

The hatred and malice shining within those typically kind and playful eyes has Keith leaning back.

"That the best you got? Because it's honestly a little weak for someone who claims to be part of a proud and all powerful race." He spits. Blood is dropping from the corner of his mouth from how hard he was biting his tongue.

"I admire that strength, little lion, truly. You're formidable when you have words to protect yourself." She purrs, patting his cheek gently.

Lance clenches his jaw hard enough the muscles are visible and swallows but says nothing, instead choosing to glower at her.

"If you can say one word, just one, to your precious team mates I'll let you go and return you to your friends immediately. Any word at all." Haggar was drawing with Lance's blood along his cheeks and chest, not caring that it was over clothing. A snap and the blood glowed brightly before disappearing. The ones on his face reappeared a moment later, sizzling and smoking as they burned into the flesh of Lance's cheek.

The six onlookers watched in horror when Lance opened his mouth and tried speaking to them but only silence came out.

Whatever Haggar had done to him with those symbols kept him from being able to speak.

"Come on, little lion. Don't you want to go back to your friends? Just a single word is all it'll take." Haggar says before shrugging and patting the crown of his head a few doboshes later when no words can escape Lance's lips, no matter how hard he forces it.

She whispers something too quiet to hear into Lance's ear that has him flinching and glaring at her with such heat, Keith is surprised she doesn't burst into flames.

Haggar snorts at his defiant look but otherwise doesn't react before gliding back over to the camera and speaking to them.

"Until next time, Paladins. I do hope our next meeting is similar." 

And then the transmission ends and she disappears.

And so is Lance.


End file.
